


A Space Adventure

by groaar



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Character Study, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gen, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Slow Build, bad-guy-luck, both serious and not so serious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 21:33:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15649347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groaar/pseuds/groaar
Summary: The Resistance has managed to pull off a very successful surprise-attack and now The First Order is on the brink of destruction. By some miracle, or cruel fate (if you ask Hux) our beloved general wakes up to realise he is one of the last survivors. And he is determined; he will survive, and in doing so he will one day resurrect the glory of The First Order. Who better to muddle his plans than Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, who (of course) is also still alive. Still! Hux will survive! With some help and a good amount of 'bad-guy-luck'.





	A Space Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> Why did it turn out like this?
> 
> This is not how I usually write. It’s quite different from my normally super-serious style, in fact.   
> I just sat down to write to get rid of my hoover-rage (because that is a thing, I detest vacuum cleaning and all it entails) and this is how it turned out (that I had some alcoholic beverages at lunch-time on an empty stomach… No, surely that is a wholly unrelated matter.)
> 
> Anyway, have a read? Maybe it'll be to your liking. You'll never know if you don't give it a go :)
> 
> (I should probably not upload until tomorrow, but slightly buzzed me wants to do it now! So, I apologise in advance for any strangeness and mistakes. I'll probably regret it all come morning ><)

The screeching in his ears is relentless, and yet the intense beeping does very little in way of aiding his brain awake. Quite on the contrary, as the pounding in his head could currently be described to have reached levels akin to an explosion hazard, the shrill sound has a rather damaging effect. On an absurd level it all reminds Hux of an unnaturally nasty hangover, were it not for the fact that he is not in bed, and also that the air around him is hot. Incredibly hot, scorching even, to such a degree where he finds it hard to breath. It’s thick, too, and heavy with smoke.

 

Alarm bells, in rapid succession, are going off in his head. Despite the urgency Hux cannot seem to muster up the energy to get up. If the room is actually filled with smoke fume poisoning would be a valid concern, also, the pain, centred in the area of his left temple, proves another likely culprit. He tries psyching himself up, a strategy he relied heavily upon in his younger years, but fails to apply successfully now, when he is in actual need of it. He tries berating himself, which turns out equally ineffective. 

 

He can feel it. That he is teetering on the edge of wakefulness and unconsciousness. Why, though? Judging from the pain his head has, rather likely, impacted with something with quite some force. Force… Could it have been Ren? If that were the case not opening his eyes to face the humiliation might be preferable. Then again, had Ren knocked him out someone would, at least most likely, have had him taken to the medical ward. His feelings aren’t adding up either. Whenever he’s been at their wonderful Supreme Leader’s (all hail him) mercies Hux usually finds himself burning with rage. Now he is filled with a sense of urgency, bordering on panic, and it’s like the rage is burning all around him. Burning….

 

The assault! Of course. The Order had been engaged in battle! That sneaky resistance army, mounting a surprise attack, how utterly cowardly. They had returned fire, naturally, and Hux had been quite sure, he recalls, that they had had the upper hand. Then the explosion had happened. Yes, that’s it. The explosion in the lower regions of the ship, that’s what all the ruckus was bound to be about, and this turned out to be just the incentive Hux needed to finally force his eyes open.

 

He is met with a world ablaze with bright colours. Not good. A quick glance around shows him that the majority of the bridge personnel are either out cold, or dead. He crawls, or rather drags himself through the debris on the floor, over to the closest body. It’s Lt. Mitaka. Dead. Hux remembers him rushing over, frantically shouting about the tanks, as the explosion happened. Lt. Mitaka was known for what some members of the Order would call a rather neurotic disposition, but Hux trusted him well-enough, and recalled he had taken note of the alarm in Lt. Mitaka’s voice.

 

The ship. It will blow. He needs to go. Hux can feel panic baiting him, can feel it just drooling to sink its hooks into him, but he cannot give in. Not yet. He has to try. So he fumbles around for a while, trying to get hold of something he can use to haul himself upright, but there is not much to use as leverage. The metal debris around him is reaching dangerous temperatures, and Hux can feel the warmth burn through his thick gloves, but in order to flee he at least needs to get into a standing position. The alternative is to burn with the ship, and the thought of his face meting into the metal does it. He rather burn his hands than die, so he grabs at the edge of a nearby command panel and forces himself into a kneeling position.

 

The pain that shoots through Hux’s head as he moves is horrid. It even draws a scream out of him. He doesn’t care, or so he tells himself, no one is here to see him now. Shame over death – he is a survivor. The floor under Hux’s feet rumbles. He pants, his breaths coming out of him hard and fast. He collects himself, prepares, and then with all the strength he can muster he demands his body to stand. And it does. He’s done it, he’s standing. He laughs, but it dies down as quickly as it was born. The panel beneath his hands is blinking with an ominously red colour: the colour that practically screams imminent doom. It is not wrong, either. A hasty look is all it takes to determine that yes, Lt. Mitaka was correct, the ship’s thanks are faulty. They’re leaking fuel, fast, and there is fire raging aboard.

 

Hux prods at the screen. It’s not working properly, but he can trace the explosion. Fortunately things had not gone boom anywhere near the main engine, nor the main tanks, or they’d all be dead by now. However, the fire is making good headway. It is only a question of time, Hux is sure. The ship will blow, and the remnants of the First Order with it. That is, if he cannot get away. 

 

He is about to stagger of the bridge, toward the hangars, when a thought hits him. He limps back to the panel, inserting a series of commands with one hand while frantically digging through his pockets with the other. All the while his eyes do not leave the screen (still illuminated by that dastardly red colour) that’s tracking the advancements of the fire. Hux can feel sweat pooling down his back and he wishes… He wishes he was stronger, more composed, like he used to be. The Hux of before would have stayed undeterred, even in the face of doom, but he isn’t that Hux anymore.

 

At long last he finds what he’s been looking for: an untraceable card used for storing credit. The only worthwhile thing his father ever gifted him. In order to survive and rebuild he needs all the credit he can get his hands on. Strictly speaking the credit isn’t his to transfer, but considering the current state of affairs it is highly improbable that the Order will survive this squeamish, which means the money would be wasted on them anyway. Therefore it is only logical that he should download as much credit as he dares without it seeming all too suspicious, in case the rebellion, or any other opposing force for that matter, ever happened to get their hands on the Order’s remaining funds.

 

 

Moving down the hallways is terrifying. Hux has no idea whether their ship has been infiltrated by rebel forces or not, and he does not carry sufficient firepower to take out a whole squad of soldiers should he chance upon such a one. He doesn’t like the feeling of being chased and hounded. Certain other officers might say he should be used to it by now, as he was first a puppet of Snoke’s and now (and possibly even worse) practically belonged to Kylo Ren. Well, who’s laughing now? At least he is still alive. And he did have plans; Snoke and Ren were only temporary obstacles. They were people, malleable and both prone to weakness in their own way. This… situation, though, is completely out of Hux’s hands, which is exactly what renders it so frightening. But so far, so good.

 

Then again, of course he was ought to run out of luck at some point. Sure, he had had a certain advantage up until now, this Hux couldn’t deny. He knew the ship well, making it easy to plan an escape-route that would be both fast, yet discreet. He also possessed knowledge of the fire and the direction in which it was generally progressing. It had almost been too good to be true, and so the sounds of fighting hardly came as a surprise. That this should take place so close to his goal, only about a few hundred meters from the hangar, well, if that wasn’t ironic enough it had to be Kylo Ren duelling that stupid little girl he is so fond of.

 

For a moment Hux finds himself considering the probability of fate, or the existence thereof. Why else would this happen? Maybe he was spared by the force when most other bridge personnel had perished, only so that he could witness this wondrous fight and instead die by lightsaber-impalement. Now wouldn’t that be fabulous? On the other hand, Hux refuses to believe in fate. He, and no one else, is the one who got him this far in life. He will get through this, and survive, and one day he will rule the galaxy.

 

He peaks around the corner. Again. Probably for the fifth or sixth time. The pair is still consumed by the heat of battle, swinging those glow-sticks around like a pair of maniacs. Hux has never quite understood the appeal of a lightsaber, to him they always only seemed like glorified weapons of an age long gone. However, he will say the grace and speed with which both fighters move is impressive. When he first laid eyes upon them he thought he might sneak his way past, as they were utterly engrossed in their battle, but upon seeing the worryingly large number of cut bodies littering the floor he decided against it.  Now, he still has one trump-card. He does possess the element of surprise, and a blaster, and thus the only real question is: which one should he shoot.

 

The girl? Yes, very appealing. Kylo Ren? Now, that would be like a dream come true. Shooting both of them would of course be ideal, but the fatal flaw of a surprise attack is that it may only be used once per given opportunity. A rare chance not to be wasted, and Hux won’t. He is not a bad shot. He can definitely take down, or mortally wound, either of them, and as long as the two targets stay engaged with one another they would probably not notice him before it was too late. Or perhaps they would. Really, it would be a small miracle if he could take out even one of them. Loath though he is to admit it, Hux knows he is no real match for any of the two force-wielders. The option of simply waiting out the whole ordeal is tempting, but time is of the essence and Hux cannot see this fight ending any time soon.

 

Hux sighs and resigns to his fate. Naturally he’ll shoot the girl. After all, Hux is rather certain she would not thank him for his heroic actions, or even appreciate the fact that he’d saved her from a likely death. No, leaving her unscathed would be like signing over his soul to the Resistance. Ren, well, he might kill Hux. But, better dead than imprisoned and tortured, or blown into a million pieces, for that matter. Also, Hux just has more experience dealing with Ren tantrums than scavenger girls. His dreams will just have to wait. Unfortunate. Very unfortunate, indeed, but Hux is set on surviving this day. That should be his main focus. Yes. Shoot the girl.

 

And he does. He aims (not at Ren, no matter however hard it had been to quench that desire) and fires. Just as he had calculated neither fighter takes note of the sound of blaster-fire, and the shot hits its intended mark. At least Hux thinks it does, as the girl staggers. Regrettably, for her – not Hux, this is all the advantage Kylo needs. One moment her lightsaber is her hands, the next it is in Kylo’s.  At this point in the battle any normal person would have dealt the final blow and moved on with their day, but Hux had forgotten that their hailed Supreme Leader was all but normal. Instead of chopping the damned girl’s head clean off her shoulders he just stands there staring at her, and Hux just wants to shout. idiot! (Uncertain if he is referring to himself or Ren).

 

Then, finally, she gurgles, blood sputtering out of the corner of her mouth. Hux takes this as his queue. As he starts sprinting across the space the force-maniacs had used as their arena, the girl starts losing her balance, wobbles slightly, before falling to the floor.  Hux isn’t fully in the clear whether it was his shot, or something Ren did immediately after, that killed the girl, but in any case it is good riddance. Supreme Leader Ren does not, however, seem to share his feeling on the matter. At least this is how Hux chooses to interpret the angry roar, followed by being force-flung through the air. At least Ren had the decency to sending him flying in the right direction: towards his goal.

 

“Why did you interfere?” Ren howls, “I did not need saving!”

 

Hux can feel how invisible fingers start to tighten ever so slightly around his throat. He cannot resist rolling his eyes.

 

“If you think I would ever save you out of my own volition, Ren, you are sorely mistaken,” Hux smirks, “and a way poorer judge of character than I pinned you down as.”

 

Hux finds himself rather amusing, to tell the truth. Although he doubts any of the other officers would agree. They were more prone to describe his humour as dry as dust, and as the wrench-like hold around his windpipe tightens further Hux suspects Ren also failed to see the amusing side of his own statement. Honestly, though, saving Ren… No, such a thing would never happen; something that should be obvious after years upon years of constant quibbling over the most trivial matters. They had tried to push as much blame on the other as possible at any given opportunity, such people do not rush to the others rescue. Now, either Ren was being very daft, or alternatively completely self-enamoured.

 

“Look,” Hux wheezes “I am not saving you, I am escaping.” He stops to breath, or tries to. “I don’t know if you’re aware, I don’t really care, but this ship will explode.”

 

This provokes nothing but another death-glare from Ren.

 

“Believe me; I would have killed you had I thought I could trust the whelp.” Hux sighs, suppressing yet another eye-roll.

 

“I should leave you here to burn, in this mess you created!” the force-wielder growls.

 

Hux clenches his jaw as Ren slowly approaches, his lightsaber still alight and glowing menacingly (and, naturally, red) at his side. Hux swallows. He knows he should, but if he is to die he cannot hold his tongue.

 

“My mess?” He sneers, “how is any of this mess? Last I checked YOU were the Supreme Leader, Ren!”

 

Before Hux is eve able to register a hint of movement Ren’s fist has collided with his cheek. While rather painful, and most likely to bruise should he make it through this day alive, a beating is always to prefer to any force this-or-that. Or lightsaber-impalement. Hux knows how to take a beating, can handle it. He scrambles up from the floor and turns his back to Ren. He has no time for further confrontation. He needs to go.

 

He gets about ten steps before he is stuck. Frozen mid-stride. Curse the blasted force-user. Maybe he should just have shot Ren and taken his chances with the girl? This is just bloody ridiculous, and so exasperating.

 

“How dare you defy me? Mock me?!”

 

“Uurgh! This is not even remotely about you Ren. I don’t give a freaking damn about you.” Hux tries to reign in his emotions. He needs to stay collected. “Don’t you see? The ship is about to blow up? The Order is in shambles! There is nothing left here for me to fight over!”

 

Ren frowns, and open his mouth to say something – undoubtedly something stupid, or so Hux suspects (as nothing much wise has ever been known to have passed Ren’s lips). When it turns out that no sound whatsoever leaves Ren, Hux decides to press on.

 

“I’m not intervening in your business, I am tending to mine. You do whatever you want. Save the girl if you like to, stay here and burn. I really do not care. I just want to save my own skin and get out of here as intact as possible. Now let me go!”

 

To his true and utter astonishment, he is let go, and Hux isn’t one to question a beast that might change its mind in the blink of an eye. He hasn’t the time to spare, either. He runs, as well as he can manage, the last bit to the hangar only to discover that the whole area is in quite a state. Not complete destruction, but close enough. He just needs to hope he’ll have some of that marvellous luck that all those people who have invaded his ships (and managed to get away) seemed to possess.

 

At first it really seems like he is hoping against hope, as all remaining ships are not fit for flight. But one of the last ones he checks is in decent condition. If he can manage to gather enough fuel from the engine tanks that are still intact, do some very base-level repairs on the engine, and grab ammunition, first-aid kits and rations from some of the other ships he could, in theory at least, make it to a planet where he could get himself another ship. That is, if he isn’t killed before he manages the jump into lightspeed. A quarter of an hour, give or take, he’s come this far, he refuses to die here.

 

9 minutes and 43 seconds later, when carrying the last of the equipment he deemed necessary onboard, Hux hears footsteps approaching rapidly from behind. He drops the med-pack, which goes rolling down the landing bridge, flings himself round and fires his blaster, not even bothering to check who he’s shooting at. The bullet stopping mid-air is quite the give-away, though. Oh, for the love of….

 

“Ren,” he mutters “Decided to kill me anyway, have you?”

 

Ren, as elaborate as ever, replies only by staring at him a bit harder. An unresponsive fellow if there ever was one. Or, he is nowadays, quite unlike Ren, actually. Hux shakes his head and holsters his blaster. Ren can do whatever he wants, and the med-kit, well, maybe he can do without. He’s dallied quite enough.

 

That’s when it happens: the umpteenth miracle of the day. Ren, the Supreme Leader Ren, bends down and grabs the med-pack. Hux gets it, and, yes, after some quick elaboration he decides he can live with it.

 

“Hurry on then!” he urges, as Ren makes no sign of moving ever which way. Even after prompting him it takes the big oaf a few more seconds before he finally stomps up the ramp. Good. Two are better than one, now we can at least pretend that we stand a chance, Hux muses as he closes the ship door.

 

Shrugging off his greatcoat he sweeps past a motionless Ren – honestly, you’d think he’d been rooted to the ground (INSIDE a ship) – and Hux cannot but hope that he hasn’t made the biggest mistake in his life.

 

“You take the wheel, I take the guns!”

 

The escape starts now.

**Author's Note:**

> I could continue, if there is interest. So, I ask you all, is there?  
> Also, if thanks a million for reading! I hope it wasn't a complete waste of your time :) 
> 
> By the way, I totally think Hux would save his own skin if it came down to it. Even if it ment letting Kylo escape with him. Staying alive, I feel, is his top priority; no matter the means.   
> Furthermore, I think Hux has 0 understanding of emotion. I don’t think he sees it, can relate to it, or recognizes it in himself. I don't think he has ever really been subjected to any sort of emotion. Or, I am sure he has, but not in such a way (a healthy way) that he has been conscious about it and been given tools to deal with said emotions. That’s also a theme I’d be looking to explore in this fic.


End file.
